Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously.

A/N: Well, my schoolwork has been on me like I don't know what. Mainly my AP Chem. So it was actually somewhat of a pleasure to pull out the thermometer from under my arm Thursday night and find out my temperature was sitting pretty on 100. And that's how you can find me today sitting in front of my computer, typing the oneshot I thought I'd never complete. So... enjoy...

Bright Darkness

"Hermione, move!"

I moved just in time as the Killing Curse whizzed past my ear. Ron looked at me for a moment longer and I saw the terror in his eyes. And it burned me, an unquenchable fire.

How I desperately wished to shout at him to go; that it wasn't his place to fight in this war we're blindly launching ourselves into; that it wasn't his place to fight at all. He shouldn't have to put his life on the line. He shouldn't have to die.

I hurled myself out of the way of another curse, falling so hard, I got the wind knocked out of me. I wheezed and stood carefully, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I hexed the nearest Death Eater, and to my disgust, it felt good.

They were everywhere. Death Eaters. Infesting the castle with their darkness. How I wished I could go back to my innocent days of youth, when I didn't know I was a witch, but I knew that it would solve nothing. It would be worse to be living like a Muggle, to come home one day to find your parents dead and the police couldn't explain why they'd been killed or for that matter, what had even killed them. More attacks were happening every day. Besides, then I wouldn't have Harry and Ron. I quickly shoved the thought of him out of my head.

Willing myself not to look in his direction, I cursed and hexed my way through the mass of people hoping to find a familiar face. And then I did. Bill lay on the ground, presumably dead. His face had scar marks all over it and was bleeding quite openly. I never thought I'd feel sorry for Fleur. But I did.

And as looked down on him, the distortion of my dream began. A scream cut through the air and my heart. Because I recognized it.

I turned around in time to see Ron fall to the ground, writhing and shrieking in pain. I screamed and ran towards him. He was dead before I'd taken a step. I sank to the floor beside him and my eyes were flooded with tears.

And then I woke up screaming.

I was sweating and shaking all over. Someone must have gone to get her, because in no time Ginny was above me, a motherly expression on her face. She wrapped me in a hug and told the other girls to go back to bed. She rocked me, stroking my hair as I sobbed.

After a while I calmed down and Ginny left me after I convinced her I was fine, going back to the fifth-year dorms, where I assume she went back to sleep. But I knew there wasn't a chance of me getting another moment's peace after that.

I put on my dressing robe and slippers and quietly slipped out the door. I tiptoed down the stairs; the common room was empty. Except for him.

He was staring at the fire, a dead, haunted look in his once lively eyes. A board creaked as I shifted my weight uncomfortably. His head whipped around, face tense. He relaxed when he recognized me.

"Hermione, why are you still awake?" he asked softly, returning his gaze to the fire.

"I was asleep."

"Oh." He still didn't meet my eyes. "Nightmare?" It wasn't really a question.

"Every time I sleep."

"Me, too."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," and then after a moment, "Will you be able to go back to sleep?"

"No," I said thickly, fighting off tears as I remembered the dream again. "Why are you awake anyway?" I asked hastily.

"I heard you scream."

"How do you know it was--?"

"I know your voice," he said quietly. Silence.

"Well, are you going to be able to go back to sleep?"

He laughed harshly. It sounded horrible. "Not tonight." He patted the cushion next to him and gestured for me to sit.

I did.

Embarrassed silence and more fire-staring ensued.

Without warning, he hugged me to him and I almost died, feeling completely safe and lost in him. We both began to back away awkwardly after a few moments.

"Hopefully the dreams won't last," he said, falsely hopeful. He didn't sound very convincing.

"Yes, they will."

"Don't say things like that."

"Well, there's no point in me pretending like I'll get over it. I know I won't."

"Why not? Can't you just laugh it off?"

"Ron," I whispered. "I dreamt you were dead. And there is nothing in the world that could make that funny."

"Oh, Hermione," he said, hesitating a moment before touching my hand. "You okay?"

"What do you think? I've been having dreams like that for years. And they're getting worse. I just want them to stop." I hit the cushion for emphasis.

"You can stop them."

"How?"

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. Hermione, I'm not going to die."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"How could you possibly know?"

"Because I won't leave you. Ever."

"They could take you. And then what would I do?"

"I would come and find you."

"But how would you know where I was?"

"I'll know."

"You're not making any sense."

"I don't need to make sense. You know I'm right."

"Yes, but... oh, the world scares me sometimes. So much."

"I'll protect you."

"I know."

A tear found its' way out of my eye and down my cheek. When I looked up, he was staring at me. And without even realizing it, I was inching closer to him.

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. My breath quickened.

I looked into those eyes that had made me lightheaded many a time. And then mine were shut as he drew closer.

It felt like everything was happening in slow motion. His hands touched my face. He stopped short of my mouth and his breath rested there.

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"I love you." I didn't even realize I had spoken until he repeated it back to me. Each of his words echoed in my mind and the world went still once more.

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And when his lips found mine, death was the last thing on my mind.

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'sigh', I typed this while listening to "When You Say You Love Me" by Josh Groban. Oh, so perfect. Please review.

--Christen

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When you say you love me, do you know how I love you?

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